


The Devil in Us Gets Released

by Minxchester (ComeAlongPond14)



Series: A Criminally Hot Love Story [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, Exhibitionist Castiel (Supernatural), Exhibitionist Dean Winchester, Exhibitionist Sam Winchester, F/M, M/M, Mardi Gras, Multi, New Orleans, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sex Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComeAlongPond14/pseuds/Minxchester
Summary: “What is it that they say about Bacchus?” Dean mirrored her smirk as she shook his hand, sitting back and tugging Cas closer to let his boy start mouthing at his dick through his jeans. “Let’s get some ‘ritual madness’ goin’...”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have confusing emotions. XD
> 
> This installment celebrates two things:
> 
> 1) JENSEN AS BACCHUS LI, HAVE YOU SEEN THESE CLIPS/INSTA POSTS, IT'S MADNESS.  
> 2) My beloved, my girlfriend, my angel. My Bambi. She introduced me to the love of the Hardy brothers, and to her fucking adorable woman, Taylor. So, they cameo herein.

The suggestion to head south for a bit had been a random one, but Dean was pretty damned pleased that it’d occurred to him. Maybe he’d unconsciously been tracking time, or maybe he’d seen something in the news and hadn’t registered that it influenced his travel ideas…but whatever it was, when the other three had agreed, they’d driven down through the states, and stumbled into New Orleans right in time for Mardi Gras.

Cas’ eyes had been wider than Dean had seen them in years as they made their way carefully through the less crowded parts of the city, hunting until they could find a hotel that had at least one room available.

“This can’t possibly be the craziest place you’ve been,” Dean teased him as they parked, and he dug out a few wads of cash for Cas to take to the front office. As far as they knew, from keeping tabs on news and social media, Cas remained unknown to the public. Gabriel might have been fairly anonymous, too, having just been a con artist before, but now that he was working actual heists with the brothers, none of them wanted to take any unnecessary risks.

“Maybe not, but I’ve never gotten to actually be down here for Mardi Gras itself,” Cas replied, grinning. “And before you say it, Sam, I know the history of the holiday. Would you prefer we drive on over to Alabama, instead?”

The younger Winchester snorted a laugh, moving past Cas to get their things out of the trunk and planting a quick kiss on his lips, smirking as a passerby whistled teasingly and threw a string of beads their way for the PDA. Slinging it around Cas’ neck, Sam winked. “No, I imagine Mobile will be even more crowded and insane than this is—the natives take their identity very seriously over there. De, please wait till we’re indoors before you act on whatever idea just put that look in your eye.”

His brother grinned unapologetically, hooking a finger through Cas’ belt loop to tug him in for a kiss of his own, tweaking the beads hanging from his neck before pushing Cas playfully toward the front office with a swat to his ass. “Just realizin’ that we’re going to have a _lot_ of lovely beads to play with before the party’s over, that’s all.”

“Fuck yeah,” Gabe agreed, sauntering over to help Sam tug their duffel bags out of the trunk and onto the curb. “Remind me to tell you fellas my best Mardi Gras tales. This one time, well, it involved one of those court jester-looking hats and some edible panties—“

Sam stopped him with a kiss, pushing him back against the side of the car, and Dean chuckled as Gabriel promptly forgot his filthy reminiscing and hooked a leg around the taller brunette’s hip, grinding their bodies together as he melted into the contact.

Cas returned with their keys, letting them into a first-floor corner room tucked off of the vending machine hallway. “I said we needed space for four ‘or more’ to sleep, and that pull-out couches were fine, but she just laughed and said that she saw us all making out through the window and gave us two king beds.”

“Well, she’s getting a big tip,” Dean teased, arranging their bags as they usually kept them. Then he turned on the TV, flipping the channels until they had local news broadcasting about the parades and fireworks and partying that were either scheduled, or already erupting around the city. “And that refers to cash, by the way, not a euphemism for my dick.”

“Though, that _would_ be a big tip,” Cas replied, deadpan, before he cracked a grin as Dean tackled him onto one of the beds. “That does remind me, though,” Cas continued in a gasp, laughing breathlessly as Dean got to work biting a fresh new claiming mark onto the side of his throat. “Now that we’re here in the Big Easy, and we happened to land here for such a significant, hedonism-centered holiday…what kind of play are we planning on getting into?”

Gabriel flung himself across the other bed on his belly, grinning over at his fellow sub. “You mean, are we gonna try some brand-new, shiny kinkiness? I mean, this _is_ the holiday where people walk around mostly or entirely naked. It’s basically a city-wide orgy.”

Dean pursed his lips, trading a musing glance with Sam and smirking faintly at the shine in his brother’s eyes. “I’d say let’s hit the town, have fun, and see what presents itself,” he replied. “Considerin’ the past few years, and findin’ you two, and all that…I’m learning to never say never.”

“Well, I’d say we’re unlikely to adopt any more stowaways,” Sam pointed out, moving to recline back on the bed that Gabriel occupied, and tugging at the smaller man’s hip until he obligingly climbed into Sam’s lap, coiling around him. “But I wouldn’t mind getting a little dirty with a stranger.”

“I’d hope not, since that’s how you landed my fine piece of ass,” Gabe shot back smugly. “Now, the first step to getting’ a proper NOLA experience is the look—gentleman, we got some shopping to do.”

* * *

It might have been more the norm to go all out with color and gaudiness for Mardi Gras, but of the four of them, that only really suited Gabriel’s style. And he didn’t hold back, either—the glittering gold shirt he’d selected hung open to his navel, the fabric just flowy enough to have more of a toga vibe than outright indecency. The pants that went with it were tight enough that Dean had assumed it was body paint before getting a handful of Gabe’s ass, laughing at the stretchy fabric.

But the piece de resistance was the makeup that Gabriel had insisted they all get, different color palettes transforming each of their faces to appear masked, sparkles and flashy fake gems adorning their skin and emphasizing their features. His face was the most elaborate, decorated like a bejeweled peacock in silver, scarlet, and black.

Although Sam had opted for a deliciously form-fitting red shirt and black pants, his face was painted in gold to match his lover—and of course, as Gabriel had pointed out, to bring out the shimmering, ever-shifting hues of his hazel eyes. Dean alone wore all black, a choice that Gabe stopped trying to argue with as soon as he laid eyes on how the coal-colored Henley clung to Dean’s upper body, and the way that his jeans and logging boots made it physically impossible to see the blonde as anything but the Dominant force that he was.

Cas allowed Gabriel to take the wheel for his dressing, and no one could say that they were disappointed by the results. His eyes glowed beneath the delicate eye liner, and the mesmerizing paints of the same majestic blue. His green shirt had a shine to it that matched him with his fellow submissive, with very intentionally chosen snap buttons that had Dean testing how easily he could access his pet’s nipples more than once as they left the little boutique and began their evening’s wanderings.

It was only as they passed from the shop’s lights into the softer flares of the street lights that he noticed Gabriel’s final touch, and Dean couldn’t stop smiling, tracing his fingers over the tiny swirls and pinpricks of emerald paints and stones that were woven into Cas’ painted mask, which matched his Master’s eyes as beautifully as his shirt did. “Clever,” he murmured, drawing Cas in for a brief kiss before they were swept along in the tidal wave of the festivities. “My clever, gorgeous boys.”

The music grew louder the closer they got to Bourbon Street, and the beads were now raining down from the various patios and verandas of the buildings they passed by. Everything was a blur of color, laughing faces often concealed by masks or feathers, and skin—so much bare skin.

Dean paused as someone darted past him, a lithe blonde male who was balancing three bottles of beer and making his way through the crowd with dexterous twists and hops. He did have a shirt on, but it was fully unbuttoned, as were his jeans, and Dean paused as he followed after Gabriel and Sam, Cas tucked at his side beneath his arm, watching the kid. Someone in the crowd whistled, giving the blonde’s ass a playful smack in passing, and he turned back to offer them a broad grin and a wink. Catching Dean’s eye and noticing Cas leaning into him, the blonde’s smile widened. He shifted his hold on the beers, freeing one hand, and tugged one of the twenty or so necklaces he was wearing free in order to toss it to them.

Cas threw one hand out to catch it, and Dean barked a laugh when he realized it had ridiculous little plastic dicks scattered every few beads. A plastic shot glass was the adorning piece at the end, which also had one of the cheap, fake cocks fastened to the bottom of it, and the words **Blow Me** printed on the side in sparkling letters. Cas slung it around his neck happily, and the blonde blew them a kiss, turning to vanish back into the crowd.

“Now _that_ is a glass designed to drink a blow job out of,” Gabriel announced, having wormed his way back to find them. Sam rolled his eyes, towed along behind his sub, but he was grinning as well. “C’mon, let’s hit a bar and get this shit going!”

It took some doing, but they were able to squeeze all four of their bodies into a corner at one bar, and when Cas showed off the shot glass on his necklace the bartender obligingly laughed, and mixed the requested shot for him.

“Thought I had to be sittin’ down for him to--” Dean started, smirking, but the words caught in his throat as Cas promptly shimmied himself down onto his knees. The shot was pressed into Dean’s hand, whipped cream smearing on his skin, and even in the madness of flashing lights and the noise of the bar, Dean could see those bottomless blue eyes with perfect clarity, locked on his face and glowing with lust and devotion.

He tilted the shot glass at once, and Cas wrapped his lips around it skillfully, tossing it back to swallow the contents as Dean held onto the necklace for him. Cas pressed his liquor-damp lips to the front of Dean’s pants, kissing his now-straining erection through the black denim, then worked himself back upright to let Dean haul him into a deep, biting kiss. “You literally never stop takin’ my breath away, you know that?” Dean growled into Cas’ mouth, not even sure if he could be heard. But the nod he got in return, more felt against his cheek then seen, was answer enough. Cas drew back, grinning knowingly as he turned to lean back into Dean’s front as the bartender started pouring them more shots at Gabe’s order.

They danced between downing drinks, letting the undulating crowd move them gradually back out onto the streets. The city was alive, gyrating and swaying human bodies forming the limbs of one massive, celebratory living organism.

Someone set off some impromptu fireworks, and they had paused to enjoy that display when Sam registered movement in his peripheral vision. Instinct from work had him tipping his head in order to check if there was a threat, without actually turning to look.

Once he realized what he was seeing, illuminated by the flashing lights and street lamps and fireworks, the younger Winchester grinned darkly. He nudged his brother, who followed his nod to the alleyway behind them, and Dean let out a low, growling laugh. “Well, now, I’d say _that’s_ our kind of party...”

They maneuvered themselves away from the throng of people, not breaking away completely, but separating themselves enough to be able to take in the newfound show.

The couple wasn’t completely visible--they were tucked far enough back into the alley that the lights from the street behind the four men didn’t fall on the woman’s face. And there was no chance of making out the face of her male companion, since it was currently buried in her pussy, one of her legs raised and hooked over his shoulder with a pair of tattered denim shorts hanging lazily from her bent knee. He appeared to be supporting her unbalanced weight for her, his ministrations guided by her controlling hand tangled in his dark hair while her free hand was raised, toying with her tits as she took her time riding his face.

“Goddamn gorgeous, aren’t they?”

Dean’s hand went to the knife tucked in his rear pocket, but it only took a few seconds to confirm that they still weren’t in danger. In fact, considering that the man who’d spoken was the same pretty blonde that he had Cas had seen earlier on the street, Dean was willing to bet that they were not only safe, but also in for even more fun than they had suspected.

Feeling Dean relax, Sam spoke first, his voice a little raspy from arousal. “You with them?”

The blonde nodded, sauntering forward to join them on the sidewalk. The couple in the alley either hadn’t noticed their audience yet, or didn’t care; she was moaning without shame, her sounds escalating in volume as the kneeling man worked her towards her climax.

The blonde was drinking a beer, his other hand tucked into the waistband of his jeans, which still hung open like a neon pink invitation. His pupils were blown wide, the knowing smirk on his face indicating that he was well aware of what he looked like, and he fully embraced it. “She’s the boss. We just do as we’re told.” His eyes, a paler shade of blue than Cas’ but just as pretty, slid over to the pair in the alley as she gave a sharp, blissed-out cry. “Frank’s got a _real_ talented tongue, though. Sometimes she just needs to stop and make ‘im put it to good use.”

Gabriel snickered, breaking away from Sam’s side and holding out his hand. The blonde offered his beer rather than his hand, and Gabe took a long drink before handing it back. “Smart woman. A man with a good tongue is the best kinda bitch to have--amiright, sir?” he added, looking back at Sam and batting his lashes.

Sam snorted, moving forward to hook his arm around Gabe’s shoulders again, drawing him back against himself. “Well, I seem to recall that it’s my bitch who likes to scream and write under _my_ tongue, but yes. Gotta know how to use that particular muscle.” He arched his eyebrows at the boy. “You got a name too, or do you both go by Frank?”

The blonde grinned wider. “Oh, I’m Joe. And the boss is Taylor.”

“Makin’ friends without me again?” They all turned, finding the woman--Taylor--moving towards them, her shorts now back on and her fingers lazily doing up the buttons as she eyed the strangers. “Wait--oh, is this who you said you saw earlier, baby?” She grinned over at Joe, reaching out to flick the dick necklace still hanging from Cas’ neck. “He told me he passed this off to a hot couple who looked like they could make us see stars.” Her eyes roamed over Dean, a touch of competitive challenge sparking in the glittering brown depths. “I can see his point. Damn, but you are pretty, aren’t you.”

Dean snorted, looking from her, back to his own lovers. “Why do I get the sense that she’s a female Gabe?”

“Cause she and I are both sexy brunettes, shorter than you behemoths, and sassier than sin?” Gabriel offered, tilting his head to look past Taylor. “Your boy okay over there?”

“Hmm? Oh--yeah, he’s just calming down,” Taylor answered, grinning as she turned to look back at where Frank was still kneeling in the alley. “Neither of them is permitted to come until I say so, even if I stop to use ‘em for _my_ pleasure. Haven’t decided when he’ll get to.” Her eyes returned to Dean, then swept to Sam, glittering with interest. “Joe was right about you boys bein’ pretty....and I suspect we’ve got even more in common than that.”

Sam looked her over, his eyes landing on the black leather cuffs that adorned both of her wrists. Each had elaborate silver stitching that caught every flicker of light, revealing that one had a twisting _F_ on it, and the other a _J_. “You’re a Domme,” he noted, his hand sliding from Gabriel’s shoulder down to the waistband of his pants. Gabe shivered slightly, shifting to let Sam hook his fingers underneath the tight material. “You like using denial on them, huh? Definitely a common interest.”

Her grin widened. “You fellas familiar with the city?” When they shook their heads, Taylor looked to Joe, who nodded and slipped past her to go get Frank, bringing him to stand behind their Mistress as she licked her lips and nodded up the street. “I know a good place. Caters to our kind, and they go all out for Mardi Gras. Won’t you join us?"

Sam and Dean traded a brief look, and Dean barely needed to see the curiosity and anticipation in his brother’s eyes to know that they were going. Gabe was grinning unabashedly, exchanging a look that could only really be called eye-fucking with Joe over his Domme’s shoulder, and Cas leaned into Dean, his relaxed posture demonstrating his willingness.

“Lead on,” Dean replied, smirking when she winked and turned on a dime, heading off with the men in tow.

* * *

Club LaMontagne didn’t look too extravagant from the outside, but the moment one was through the doors and descending the stairs, its nature became more apparent. And just for the holiday occasion, the Mardi Gras flashiness was elevated to the extremes.

The main room was a myriad of colors and strobe lights, styled similarly to the BDSM club where the boys had played in the past. A dance floor, tables and booths and discreet alcoves, bars on multiple walls, and then a stage that dominated the attention of the room. Taylor didn’t hesitate, once they had paid their cover charges, heading straight toward the stage and selecting a table not far from the edge of the platform.

Frank and Joe moved forward at once, kneeling on either side of her chair, and Dean smirked as he and Sam sat across from her. Gabe and Cas followed suit, settling side-by-side between the brothers. Taylor looked them over, her bright red lips curving up in a smug smile. “Not just two couples on a double date, are you? You’re all together, all four of you.”

Dean nodded, his hand falling absently into Cas’ hair to stroke it. Gabe leaned into Sam, nuzzling his thigh in question; Sam didn’t take his eyes off of Taylor as he gave permission, spreading his legs to let the brunette sidle between his knees. Gabe worked his pants open, leaning in to take Sam’s cock deep into his mouth as the dominant partners conversed.

Taylor watched, giving a soft hum of pleasure. “Damn, I bet the four of you can get into some tantalizing tangles. Gives me all sort of yummy ideas...” She cocked her head, seemingly evaluating the four of them, and then sat forward in her chair, her lovely eyes sharpening.

“How about a game. Not a competition--just a demonstration of pleasure.” She reached out both hands, petting her kneeling boys and smiling faintly as they both leaned into her responsively. “We take turns on the stage. I picked this joint ‘cause they go all-out on their themes--it’s all Mardi Gras and pleasure and wine and madness, this weekend.” Taylor smirked, glancing at the stage, where a large neon sign hung over the sexual play taking place declaring, “ **Bacchus Reigns** ”.

“We use the toys provided, and we make our pets scream for us. Make them come as many times as we can--or deny them right until the last second, either way. But we could give this club one hell of a show.”

Gabriel made a soft sound, barely a moan, and Sam tapped his cheek to allow him to speak. He drew back, his lips spit-slick and his face paint just a touch smudged as he glanced back at Taylor with sparkling eyes. “I _like_ her.”

The Winchesters traded one more look, but neither had to check with the other to know the answer. When did they ever turn down a game? More importantly, when had they said no to getting to torment their boys?”

“We’ll see if you still like her after I’ve made you orgasm till you’re dry, showing off for her,” Sam retorted, giving Gabe’s cheek a taunting little smack. He pushed Gabe back down onto his cock, nodding for Dean to go ahead and seal the deal. The older man chuckled, sitting forward and offering Taylor his hand for a shake.

“What is it that they say about Bacchus?” Dean mirrored her smirk as she shook his hand, sitting back and tugging Cas closer to let his boy start mouthing at his dick through his jeans. “Let’s get some ‘ritual madness’ goin’...”

Taylor grinned, sliding to her feet and gesturing; her pets slid to their feet behind her, also very visibly excited about the game ahead. “You boys look mighty fine in your makeup--looks like it’s time for us to get into costume, too. We’ll book the stage. See you soon, boys...”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'I’ve got one fucker of a show for you,' she promised."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear God, this was fun.

It didn’t take long for the trio to return. Sam and Dean had gotten whiskeys and sipped them leisurely, sharing intermittent sips with their still-kneeling lovers, when the music changed to indicate someone new coming to the stage.

The glittering curtains parted to reveal Taylor, and Dean snorted a laugh as Sam grinned. “She really is a female Gabe,” the younger Winchester noted, ruffling his pet’s hair fondly. “Jesus, look at her.”

There wasn’t a person in the club who wasn’t. Taylor hadn’t been joking about costuming up; the denim shorts and cropped halter top were gone, replaced by a short leather skirt that appeared to be little more than a garter harness, adorned with gem-studded peacock feathers and Mardi Gras bead strings. Above the waist, she wore _only_ beads, the necklaces stacked thick enough that they almost kept her breasts covered--but not completely.

And it was hard to miss the jewelry studded through both of her nipples, ruby-tipped gold bars that twinkled and danced against her olive-toned skin as she beamed at her riveted audience.

The final touches were the knee-high silver boots, the heel of which drew a lusty, worshipful moan from Gabriel’s lips, and a classic Mardi Gras mask of dark purple, lined with gold and green and with a few more feathers tastefully angling off from the corners above her eyes.

“Y’all miss me?” She laughed as the watching crowd roared affirmation, strutting forward to stand tall and proud at the center of the stage. The command she had over the club’s attention was tangible, and Dean remembered that she’d chosen this place because she knew it. Clearly, the regulars here knew her, as well.

“Well, sit tight--I’ve got one fucker of a show for you,” she promised, reaching out to select a delicate riding crop that reflected the spotlights with its array of brightly colored gemstones. In her hand, it almost looked like a queen’s scepter, and Taylor rapped the bright gold and green leather tongue against the table that held all of the toys.

In response to the summoning sound, Frank and Joe slipped out onto the stage, earning their own round of applause and cat-calls as excitement rose at the promised spectacle. Even the Winchesters had to admit, it was impossible not to stare at how Taylor had decorated her pets.

Joe still possessed the easy self-confidence and energy that Dean had seen in him from the first glimpse out on the street--even wearing nothing but a shockingly sparkly black thong of lace and leather, and a pair of nipple tassels with a rainbow of color in the strands, which danced against his skin as he circled and came to kneel where Taylor was pointing her crop.

Frank appeared to be slightly less of a show-off, though he was just as beautiful, naked aside from a bedazzled silver jockstrap and a few bead necklaces of his own. The lovely colors of their costumes were certainly attention-grabbing, but they didn’t deflect from the beauty of the bodies beneath. Both men had ink, too, and Sam had to take a moment simply to admire the artistic choices, his eyes roaming hungrily over every inch of tanned, well-muscled, occasionally tattooed skin on display.

Returning to center stage, Taylor used the crop to guide the two men as she pleased, placing Frank to one side so that he stood with his profile to the crowd. His back was straight and proud, the regal line of his muscular shoulders making Dean and Sam trade a dreamy look, mouths watering at the view as Taylor slid a set of silk rope cuffs around his wrists.

Joe obediently brought one of the available benches forward, and there was a swell of anticipatory noises from the onlookers as her plan began to be apparent. Dean sat back, leaning into Sam and grinning as he felt Cas shifting at his side with the arousal and hunger rising in all four of them.

“Yep,” Taylor began teasingly, helping Joe settle on his hands and knees on the low, padded bench. His mouth was now level with Frank’s erection where it was straining against the jockstrap, and as Taylor stepped behind him, he rocked his hips, wiggling his ass at her playfully. She gave him a solid swat with the crop, and he moaned prettily, spreading his thighs as widely as he could on the narrow beam. “Our favorite little blonde slut is going to be the spit-roasted piggy on this lovely night of revelry!"

The response to that was an absolutely thundering racket of cat calls and cheering, and the Winchesters stood, letting Gabe and Cas rise as well so that the four of them could get closer to the stage. Taylor caught their eyes and winked, turning back to the table to select a sizeable strap-on that she carefully buckled on over her skirt.

Gabe let out a pornographic whimper of envy at the sight of the silicone cock attachment. “Lucky bitch, look at that girth.” He caught the sidelong smirk Sam shot at him, and Gabe grinned, shimmying in front of his Dom to rock his hips back against Sam’s groin. “Oh, don’t worry, no plastic dick could _ever_ compare. Just sayin’--if sharing comes up on tonight’s menu, I personally vote a resounding _yes_.”

Sam glanced at his brother, who shrugged a shoulder. “I’d never turn down a good show. Long as everyone’s comfortable.” Dean hooked his arm around Cas’ waist, kissing the side of his neck as they watched Taylor demonstrating how prepped Joe was, tugging aside the string of his thong and sliding a long, curved plug out of his hole. “What do you think, angel, would you like to play with her and her boys?”

Cas nodded, angling his head to encourage more of the soft kisses. “If she invites us to, Master, then yes.”

Taylor circled around to Frank now, the strap-on bobbing with beautiful obscenity at her crotch. She raised her hand, and as the audience eyed the large black plug she held, her finger flicked--and even if the buzzing of the vibrating toy was inaudible under the pulsing music, the visible trembling of her fingers around it indicated its potential power.

“I’ve been torturing my boys all day long,” Taylor announced, grinning like the Cheshire cat on crack as she turned the vibe off and pressed it to Frank’s lips. He opened his mouth at once, eyes locked adoringly on his mistress as he began sucking the plug, slicking it with his saliva. “Poor Frank here had to take the edge off for me earlier with his clever tongue, and I didn’t let him even touch himself.” There were joking moans of sympathy and approval, and she laughed, taking the toy out and giving Frank’s ass a pat. He bent forward at once, resting his hands over Joe’s on the bench and leaning forward to give the blonde a surprisingly gentle-looking kiss, even as he spread his legs wide for their Domme.

She added a little more lube, then worked the plug carefully inside of him before switching it on. Frank jolted, a low groan of relief leaving him, and Taylor’s hand snapped out, the crop pressing against his throat and guiding him upright again. She leaned in, kissing his lips and--even from a distance--visibly licking Joe’s spit from his mouth before she drew back, looking down at where Joe was sneakily letting his tongue dart out to touch the bouncing shape of her strap-on.

“He really is just a complete slut, isn’t he?” Taylor smirked, giving Joe’s cheek a slap that only made him moan louder, his face a portrait of ecstasy. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to be _very_ nice to you both, this time.”

Moving to the other end of the bench, she raised the remote, tapping the button and nodding smugly as Frank shuddered from the increase in vibrations. “Don’t worry, Frank, it’s time, my love...Joe.”

As if his entire body had been tensed and ready to obey the command of his name, Joe surged forward, his mouth wrapping around Frank’s cock through the jockstrap. Frank groaned openly, somehow managing not to hunch over or bury his still-cuffed hands into Joe’s hair. Taylor’s grin widened further as she aligned her fake cock with Joe’s hole, and began pressing forward.

Dean would have paid a damned good amount of money to be right up close as the silicone slid into the shivering sub’s body, his ass twitching and hips flexing as he struggled not to fuck himself back onto the toy faster.

Once Taylor had bottomed out inside of Joe, she extended the crop, flicking it off of Joe’s shoulders. It was clearly a signal that didn’t need accompanying orders; he moved immediately, bracing himself on one hand and using the other to free Frank’s cock from his jockstrap, and Joe dove in, sucking the brunette down as if his own orgasm depended on it.

Taylor began to move as well, grasping Joe’s hips and planting her feet in order to begin pumping her hips hard and fast. The strap-on pistoned in and out of Joe’s ass, a gleaming line of spit-and-lube slick shaft that, in the flaring and flashing lights, almost looked like a real cock.

Between the plug and the mouth working his body, Frank clearly wasn’t going to last too long. And it seemed, compared to leaving him panting in an alleyway earlier in order to calm himself, that Taylor was in a more merciful mood this round.

The crop whistled up, pressing into the underside of Frank’s jawline--and fuck, that jaw could cut glass. Dean pressed his fingers into Cas’ hips through his clothing, his blood heating and surging to his dick, the need to fuck into something as pretty and pristine as the man on the stage--or the one in his arms--searing through him. He could feel the energy vibrating in Sam’s body at his side, could see one of Sam’s gorgeous, long-fingered hands tucked into the waistband of Gabe’s impossibly tight pants, toying with his hole as they waited breathlessly to see how and where Taylor would fit them into her scene.

Frank’s face tilted into the light, the sharp gray of his eyes visible as he stared hungrily back at his lover, and Taylor licked her blood-red lips, adoration and authority radiating from her as she gazed back at him, still fucking into the body poised between them. “Joe doesn’t have any pretty face paint for Mardi Gras yet, Frank. Be a good boy and fix that for me?”

Joe groaned deeply, and Frank almost seemed to shove the blonde’s mouth off of his cock, grasping himself and stroking just once or twice before he was coming with a cry, his release pulsing across Joe’s face in long, glistening strands of pearly white.

“Fuck, she’s so good,” Gabe groaned, leaning back into Sam’s hold as if he could barely stay upright. “I _need_ some of that....”

Taylor had slowed to a standstill, her hands stroking soothingly over Joe to quiet him as she stopped fucking him and withdrew in order to go to Frank. He sank to his knees gratefully as she guided him, before she looked back at Joe, the calculating smirk back on her face as she took in his filthy face.

“I didn’t tell you all the best part of tonight,” she announced, and Joe perked up, as did the Winchesters and their boys. Taylor’s eyes found them, and she nodded, raising the crop to beckon them. “I brought extra _friends_ to help me out. It’s a party, isn’t it? We gotta really make this a night my boys can’t forget!”

They joined her on the stage, the crowd already starting to murmur and wolf whistle at the sight of so many attractive bodies gathered around Taylor, who held her ground like a glowing, sensual circus ringleader as she gestured to have the Winchesters sit on a sleek leather loveseat tucked to one side of the stage.

“I heard you, twice tonight,” she said, directing her words at Gabe after getting a swift nod of permission from Sam. “Your boy’s got a big mouth, hm?” When Sam barked a laugh, nodding and twisting his fingers playfully into Gabe’s long, dark hair, she extended the crop to press Gabe’s lips apart. “I thought so. If I might borrow him, I’d like to put that pretty hole to good use..."

Sam used his foot to nudge Gabriel forward, and the submissive complied willingly, crawling to Taylor and bowing his head as if in respect--though the smirk on his face gave him away. Taylor tsked in amusement, giving his cheek a swat with the crop. “You like how pretty my Joe is, painted up like this? It lacks the finesse of that fine artwork on _your_ face, but still...” When Gabe merely nodded, watching her through his lashes, Taylor chuckled, stepping back to the bench.

A pat to Joe’s flank had him sliding gracefully off of the bench and onto the floor on all fours, and Taylor lightly set one foot against his bare ass, urging him toward Gabe. “Lick him clean for me, there’s a dear. And don’t swallow just yet.”

Gabe waited only long enough for the quiet hum of encouragement that Sam gave, and then he closed the inches between himself and Joe, eagerly lapping at his face until he had gathered all of Frank’s come from the blonde’s forehead, cheeks, and lips, and was cradling it in the curve of his own tongue, waiting breathlessly for Taylor’s next instruction.

“Joe,” she purred, and he straightened his shoulders, turning his face--now shining with Gabe’s spit, as well as smeared traces of Frank’s come, and _fuck_ if that wasn’t a stunning picture--to his mistress. “Up on your knees, baby. Our guest has such a needy mouth--I’m sure his masters would be pleased to see _both_ my beautiful boys’ come dripping from it, wouldn’t they?”

“Fuck yes,” Sam growled, and the dark authority underlining his tone clearly had the crowd waiting to see what part he would get to play in this. Dean licked his lips, one hand still resting comfortingly on Cas’ head, and the other settled on Sam’s upper thigh, feeling his brother’s muscles flexing and releasing with lust and a need to fuck. “Do it.”

Taylor slid in close behind Joe, leaning in to whisper in his ear, and even from the far side of the stage, the Winchesters could see that she was rutting against him leisurely, the strap-on sliding along the seam of his ass as one of her delicate hands came around, grasping Joe’s flesh-and-blood cock and beginning to stroke him.

She moved with the sureness of a Domme who knew her pet’s body as intimately as she knew her own, twisting and tightening her fingers until Joe was slumped back into her hold, whimpering and shivering. Dean had to press the heel of his palm into his own hard-on just to gain some relief as he watched her take her boy apart. At last, Taylor turned and sank her teeth into the side of Joe’s neck. He broke, crying out her name hoarsely as he came, streaking Gabe’s face and adding to the load in his mouth.

Another whisper from Taylor had Joe retreating to where Frank was seated on a couch opposite the Winchesters, waiting for him with a water bottle and open arms. Once she knew that they were settled, Taylor turned back to Gabriel, using the crop to carefully push the lines of semen that had missed his open mouth past his lips. He was trembling, quivering with the need to obey and not swallow, and Taylor looked past him at his lovers with sparkling eyes. “Your other boy...I bet he’d like to come, too, wouldn’t he?"

Dean stood at once, a delicate yank at Cas’ hair bringing the brunette to his feet and he followed his Master willingly as Dean moved to the center of the stage. “Oh, I think he would. And I know just how to get him there...”

He guided Cas around Gabriel and placed him where Joe had been, facing the still-kneeling man. Nudging him to raise his hands over his head, Dean smirked as the crowd gave a low, rippling mumble of excitement, as he tugged at the silk ropes that hung from the ceiling and used them to secure Cas’ arms.

Dean undid the snap buttons on Cas’ shirt, baring his pet’s lean, muscular torso, and Taylor gave an appreciative whistle at the various bite marks and hickeys that decorated his skin. “Fuck, you are good to him...please, take the lead.”

Molding himself to Cas’ back, Dean worked his submissive’s tight pants down enough to bare his ass, testing to confirm that he was still slick enough for what his Master intended. Undoing his own jeans, he turned his gaze back to his brother. “Sammy? You know how much my angel likes a firm hand....”

His brother grinned, standing and almost stalking over to them, standing so that he was facing their audience between Cas and Gabe. His kneeling lover gazed up at him with pure adoration, and Sam returned the look tenderly, thumbing at his lip gently. “One more load, beautiful, and then I’m going to fuck it all right down that lovely, tight throat of yours.”

“Mmm, you’ve got style,” Taylor purred, moving to sit in a velvet-cushioned chair off-set from the center stage. She reclined back, looking every bit the queen that she was, and gestured with the crop. “By all means.”

Dean didn’t need further encouragement. Nudging Cas’ feet as wide apart as his pants would allow, he pushed inside of his lover roughly, and the sound that Cas let out was definitely enough to have more than a few of their viewers sliding their hands between their own legs. Cas braced himself on the balls of his feet and took the fucking like he had been designed for Dean’s cock, resting his weight on the strength of the ropes holding his arms aloft.

Sam watched them with heat simmering in his gaze, the paint on his face making him look almost like a demon of hedonism come to seduce them. Dean met his brother’s eyes over the shaking curve of Cas’ shoulder as he pounded into him, and he saw it then--that flicker of darkness that he so fucking loved in his sibling. The need to control, to have the very pulse of someone’s life in Sam’s hands...it was a deep-rooted desire that Dean had only ever sought to feed.

He nodded, and Sam inhaled sharply, both of his hands reaching out at once. The left went back into Gabe’s hair, tangling in the thick locks and forcing his head back until it was just shy of painful, letting the stage lights illuminate Gabriel’s gaping, come-sloppy mouth and his expression of desperate need as he watched his Dom.

The other hand rose to close around Cas’ throat, thumb just above his clavicle and fingers over his pulse, and Cas made a strangled sound of shock and pleasure as Dean adjusted his stance just slightly, ensuring that he was at the perfect angle to target his pet’s sweet spot.

“Master--” It was all the warning that Cas could gasp out, and it was all that Dean needed. He thrust one final time, bottoming out inside of his sub as Cas’ orgasm dragged him into his own. Reaching around him just as Taylor had done for Joe, Dean aimed his cock for him as Cas shattered, gasping, supported solely by the ropes and by Sam’s hand at his throat as he came all over Gabe’s upturned face.

Dean caught his breath before easing out, unconcerned by the slick wet of his own come easing back out of Cas’ body. He reached up to undo the ropes and caught Cas’ weight as he slumped, murmuring soothingly and mostly ignoring the roar of the clearly-pleased audience. Guiding Cas back to the loveseat, Dean sat without bothering to draw his jeans back up, bringing Cas in close and whispering tenderly to him as his lover curled into him, coming down from the high.

Gabriel was nowhere near there, yet. Sam turned slowly to face him, one eyebrow raised and his expression one of pure ownership. “Do you want to swallow, baby?”

Gabe made a choked, glorious sound, seemingly almost unable to breathe through the three loads of come he was struggling to keep in his mouth, and his hands rose to tug pleadingly at the front of Sam’s jeans. His Dom grinned, nodding permission, and he watched as Gabe hastily worked his cock free, using the pre-come already dripping from the slit to begin stroking him.

“Sweet Jesus,” Taylor breathed, and when Sam glanced at her, he couldn’t help laughing to see that she had her hand tucked under the band of her leather skirt. “Now I can see why your boy’s so insatiable. I’m surprised he was hungry for my little strap-on.”

“He’s always hungry for cock,” Sam replied, and there were more than a few moans at the low timbre of his voice. “But he’s been so good tonight, I don’t think I need to torture him further...”

Taylor nodded, biting her lip as her own fingers began moving faster beneath her leather and feathers. Refocusing on Gabriel, Sam took his erection in hand, pressing the head to his lover’s lips. “Deep breath, baby.” Gabe obeyed, inhaling hard through his nose, and Sam pushed forward, without pause or caution, knowing exactly what his pet needed.

Gabe’s throat made an incredible, soppy-wet sound as Sam’s thick girth drove past the tight ring, pushing three loads of come along with it and making Gabriel actually gag, just a little. His hands remained at Sam’s hips, flexing intermittently to indicate that he was fine, though, and his Dom took his word for it.

Sam moved like a pornstar. Dean had always noticed that every thrust and pump of his hips was calculated and intentional, as if he had a camera tracking him and some pervy asshole breathing heavy and telling him how to make it look better. But aside from their own occasional sexiest home videos, Sam’s cock had never been on screen and Dean knew firsthand that the way his brother moved was just his natural need to possess whatever, whoever, he was fucking.

Gabe’s eyes were starting to roll back a little when Sam finally buried both hands in his hair, pushing forward until he had his sub’s face pressed right against the soft downy hair surrounding his cock. Dean didn’t need a better view to know what had the crowd moaning and panting like they were--he knew full-well what Sam’s monster dick looked like buried in Gabe’s throat, stretching the long column of his neck in a way that belonged in hentai.

Sam cursed, low and dark, the only indication of his climax as Gabe swallowed around him. When the younger Winchester finally withdrew, Gabriel sagged forward onto all fours, gasping for air as Sam crouched to pet his hair, murmuring praises.

Taylor sat forward, her brown eyes bright and glittering. “He absolutely deserves a reward...may I have him a moment longer, darling?”

Sam chuckled, taking an unheard affirmation from Gabe and nodding at her in permission. Taylor shifted in her makeshift throne, crossing one leg over the other so that the spotlights fell across the gleaming leather of her boots. “Beautiful boy...I also heard you say you liked these boots of mine. Would you like to show them a little worship? Don’t worry, I have a treat for you while you work....”

Gabriel whimpered softly, already moving to crawl to her feet. Sam rejoined his brother, leaning back on the loveseat with one arm comfortably slung over the back of the couch behind Dean and Cas, eyes on his boy as Gabe bent eagerly to his ordered task.

His lips were swollen and red, mouth slack as he ran his tongue worshipfully over the arches of Taylor’s boots. She watched him for a long moment, toying with the crop she still held before raising her other hand, and beckoning.

Frank crossed the stage on silent feet, his jockstrap back in place and his face content, body relaxed and ready. Taylor didn’t say a word, just pointed the crop; Frank licked his lips, nodding as he dropped to his knees behind Gabe. Working the other brunette’s pants over his hips--and grinning a little smugly at the startled, excited noise that Gabriel couldn’t help letting out--Frank dove right in, putting his reportedly talented tongue to use again.

Judging from the way Gabriel jolted and cried out, seemingly struggling to remember to stay on-task at Taylor’s boots, the reports were not exaggerated.

“He’ll come just from that, if your boy keeps up his pace,” Sam rumbled, and Taylor laughed, a soft tinkling sound like rain pattering on glass.

“Good,” she said happily. “He’s been such a perfect little bitch for us, he needs the relief...Joe, darling, won’t you come help this lovely creature out? He’s as big of a slut as you are, and that takes some skill.”

Joe pranced over, looking to Sam once for his nod; then he dropped to all fours before rolling onto his back like the bitch his mistress declared him to be, shimmying underneath Gabe’s trembling body to offer his mouth.

“Christ--fuck--” Gabe’s entire body jerked, obedience warring with pleasure, and Taylor laughed again. The crop came down on his shoulders lightly as she withdrew her feet from his probing tongue, leaning forward to tilt his face up so he could see her delighted grin.

“There’s a good boy. Come for your masters, pet, let them see how good you feel.”

Gabe gave a choked-off groan and broke, coming over Joe’s face and into his open mouth as the blonde purred and lapped at his cock as if he was nursing.

Once Gabe had finished, Joe slid out from beneath him and leaned in to support him, kissing his face and whispering softly to him. Whatever he was saying was too low for anyone to hear, but it was clearly good for Gabriel, who relaxed into him with a happy, shuddering little laugh of his own.

“Go back to your master, darling,” Taylor cooed, patting Gabriel’s face fondly. He drew back, kissing her hand fleetingly before turning to crawl to Sam, who welcomed him up into his arms and gave him a searing kiss of approval and praise.

* * *

Dean didn’t listen too attentively to Taylor concluding her performance, more focused on Gabe and Cas--both of whom were clearly fine, but they never went without a little aftercare and cuddling--and Sam, who pressed into his side as soon as he had given Gabriel a little water and felt him settle.

As Taylor bowed off the stage with her boys, gesturing to Dean for them to meet her on the floor, the Winchesters and their pets moved to a booth. Plenty of clubbers congratulated or praised them in passing, but Dean barely noticed, ordering a fresh whiskey while they waited.

Taylor, Frank, and Joe joined them at the booth, now all back in their earlier street clothes, and Taylor grinned widely at the Winchesters as she hailed a server to bring her a cocktail. “Fuck, that was by far the best show we’ve ever put on here. I mean, this is my go-to place for themed nights only, holidays and such, but--shit, that was amazing.”

“It was,” Dean agreed, tipping his whiskey in a toast of confirmation. “Rare to have such instant chemistry with other players, but damn, that was somethin’ else.”

Sam’s eyes were on Frank and Joe, who sat side-by-side, close together, but still angled toward their Domme in clear deference. “You have one matching tattoo,” Sam commented, and when the three looked at him in confusion, he nodded at their collarbones, where a delicate, flowering H was visible on both men’s skin, the only one to appear on both bodies amidst all their other ink.

Sam and Dean moved in sync, shifting their own collars to show the unusual flame-lined star pattern on each of their left pectorals. “It’s a family thing,” Sam went on, barely turning his head to nod at Gabe as his pet murmured, then ordered a beer for himself. “We got ours with our dad. Not to say that matching tats _have_ to mean that, but....”

There was a long pause, and then Frank grinned, and spoke for the first time since they had first met him on the street. “Well, our dad doesn’t have one, but as soon as Joe turned 18, we got ours together. Won’t disclose what it is, but it’s the initial of our last name. If anyone ever catches onto that, we just claim we were high school sweethearts and got married as soon as he was legal.”

Taylor tilted her head, giving Sam a look underlined with interest, admiration, and a lingering touch of lust. “You’re sharp,” she complimented, smirking when he merely shrugged, not one to be modest about that. He had to be, to keep himself and his brother--and their lovers--alive. “I think I like you boys.”

Snagging a pen from their drink bill when it was delivered, Taylor jotted a number and an e-mail address on a napkin, then slid it across the table. Sam slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt without a word, smiling as Taylor nudged her boys. The brothers eased out of the booth, and she followed, giving the four men one last thoughtful look, a knowing smile curving up her lips. “You boys ever come back this way, let me know. If our paths cross, we oughta play again.”

“Cheers to that,” Dean replied, and Sam nodded as well. With one last wink, Taylor turned, hooking her arms through each of her pets’ and slipping away into the chaos of club-goers with them.

“We have to come back. We gotta. We will, right?” Gabe asked, grinning as he downed his beer. “This was by _far_ the best Mardi Gras I’ve ever had.”

“And it didn’t even involve jester hats and edible panties,” Dean deadpanned, barking a laugh at Cas’ bewildered expression and leaning back in the booth, allowing Gabriel to fill the other submissive in on the undoubtedly bizarre story that he’d started back at the hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written 11 full pages in one day before. And then posted it the same day. Wow.

**Author's Note:**

> For any and everyone who has ever commented a suggestion: I literally guarantee you that it will occur in this series. 
> 
> Unless it involves my squicks of bathroom play or non-con and no one has ever suggested either. <3


End file.
